Page 8 of A Kiss From a Faerie King

She’s perfect. She’smine.

Her simple cotton shift does nothing for her. Even if it seems it was once good quality, it’s been tattered and torn, leaving swaths of her golden brown skin exposed to the glowing light. Her legs and arms are slim, but I won’t be satisfied until I can see, touch, and taste every inch of her skin. The graceful slope of her neck leads up to a delicately pointed chin. Full lips and cheeks are surrounded by thick, shining black curls. My claws itch to thread through them, to watch the coils slip between my fingers and reform into their magnificent shape.

Delicate dark brows arch over the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen—a warm brown with honey swirled into her irises framed by thick lashes. They stare at me in shock—in fear—and my stomach lurches. She shouldn’t be anything less than happy and pleased in my presence. Even as she looks unsure, warmth pours from her and heats my blood clear across the meadow.

Her full lips parted with a gasp as she trembled slightly. The wind blows her tattered shift, carrying her delicious scent. My cock stirs in my thin pants, and my mouth waters. It’s sweet, sweeter than honey, than the ripest fruit. Like sun-drenched wildflowers, her scent has me taking a dazed step towards her.

“Who are you?” Desire has turned my voice to gravel.

Her wonderful eyes shift away from me before returning, kindled by fire.

“Laurelle,” she says, her voice making my knees buckle. “I was—I was just passing through.”

My beauty—she dulls the meadow around her—blinks her eyes rapidly as if waking up from a dream. The wildflowers are muted and lifeless in comparison to her. She is a true blossom, an indulgent temptation.

“Where am I?” Her voice is a mere whisper. “How did I?—”

She swallows hard and takes a shaky step back. I go after her, itching to touch her, but I hold back. She’s skittish now, and I won’t scare her further. My eyes are the only thing that will give away my hunger for her.

“Laurelle.” I savor her name on my tongue. “Did you try and steal from my meadow? Plucked a flower that did not belong to you?”

“I,” she gasps, “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I swear?—”

I lick over my sharp teeth, pulling my lips into a smile.

“Humans come into my realm,” I state. “None of them get to leave. It’s the price for trying to take from me.”

Laurelle takes another shaky step back and looks down. Quickly, as if finally noticing her state of undress, she wraps her arms around herself. I can’t manage to swallow down my snarl. She should never cover herself. I’ll show her that she is a treasure to behold.

There is no shame in my realm.

A grazing of soft wings tickles my ear as the three sisters weave between my hair and longue along my crown. I’m too transfixed by Laurelle to swat at them.

“The human we need,” says Pond.

“The human to feed,” agrees Puddle.

“The human to seed,” states Port.

My heart pounds as I take in their words. Never has another affected me like this. Sure, I’ve spent years, decades, centuries engaging in illicit trysts fueled by lust, maybe even strong affection. However, this is…something bigger—deeper. Laurelle is different, and I can only hope that, for once,The Great Oakhas finally answered my prayers.

The three sisters fly away as I move closer to Laurelle. Her sweet scent invades my lungs and settles in my stomach. Her eyes remain fixed on the ground as she takes deep breaths. Her shoulders rise and fall rapidly as I approach.

I stop just before my body grazes hers. My claws move slowly before gripping her chin. Her skin is warm and soft as I gently lift her beautiful face towards me. Being this close to her makes breathing hard, but somehow, I manage.

“Forgive me, I haven’t properly introduced myself.” My grin is as wide as her eyes. “I am the faerie king Emrys, and you, my blossom, belong to me now.”

My thumb brushes her bottom lip, and she whimpers. Leaning in closer, my lips are a breath away from her ear. My tongue longs to taste, but instead, I settle for using it to deliver a promise.

“Forever.”

3

LAURELLE

Itremble in the faerie king’s solid grip.

Standing this close to him, I’m acutely aware of the fact that his hands are tipped in black claws that could easily shred my throat. I’m out of my depth here. Part of me feels like I’m trapped in a dream. A horrible, unnatural dream. How had I gotten to this place? Had I truly tumbled through the ground into a portal and…ended up here?

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